


Forgive me for I have sinned

by rhyme_n_reason



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe-ish, Blowjobs in the confessional box, Church setting, M/M, Priest Hannibal Lecter, no encephalitis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-01
Updated: 2014-03-01
Packaged: 2018-01-14 05:50:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1255261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhyme_n_reason/pseuds/rhyme_n_reason
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Father Lecter normally doesn't mix pleasure with business, but for Will Graham he's more than willing to hasten the young man's fall from grace.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forgive me for I have sinned

**Author's Note:**

> Decided to make this in celebration of season to premier of Hannibal. Enjoy.  
> Warnings:  
> A.Not beta read  
> B.I know nothing about this stuff and I did no research so if I got something wrong I apologize.

The sounds of a thin door being pried open and then promptly closed signals another soul has come to bare their sins. A voice that trembles with despair guilt and self-doubt tugs at the strings holding the Father’s mask in check. Lips turning up into a satisfied smirk are parted by the dull point of a tongue as if he could physically taste the nervous sweat and heat radiating through the thin barrier.

Hasty movements behind the wooden lattice marked the commencement of their ritual. A cross drawn out on the sinner’s chest with the devotion of a man marked for death.

Father Lecter’s voice whispered through the dim and stifling light, “How long since your last confession?” The question more for formalities’ sake; Hannibal knows exactly how long it’s been since his raven haired experiment has visited this small box and spilled his dark desires. He made sure to land his shifts at confessional to include every Wednesday at 4:30 to ensure no one else put thoughts into his falling angel’s head but himself.

“Exactly one week Father.”

The answer rolls off of his tongue the same as it always had and he is silent for a long time as he always did, debating on whether or not to reveal his innermost demons to the man who was supposed to be a direct link to God.

Eventually the silence breaks as Will reaches out through the wooden lace between them.

“Father?”

“What is it my son?”

The omissions of names keep the conversation confidential even though both recognize who is on the other side.

A heavy sigh is muffled as if William has buried his nightmares and his head in his hands.

“I have been having horrifying thoughts again. I can’t get them to stop and no matter what I do they won’t go away.”

The light quivering sound of a soul cracking was a symphony to his ears. Hannibal wished to just grasp it and feel the vibrations to his very core. Like a rare tuning fork amongst an orchestra of metronomes.

The Father’s even accent filtered through. “What kind of thoughts my son?” He always had to prompt William to speak or else the man would rush from the dark confined area and hide from himself for another week.

“Horrible atrocities. I torture and kill and rend flesh from bone in the sole purpose of inflicting pain. I know I must look, force myself to mirror a monster in order to catch them. But what happens when the mirror starts to move on its own. What happens when I become the very thing I am trying to catch and put away? What if I become them? Become a monster. I do not know how long I can last; I’ll go mad or worse. I’m afraid I’ll hurt someone. Kill someone. Please… Help me father.” Voice breaking and on the edge of begging was stirring long dormant feelings of humanity inside him. Father Lecter had long since known he was incapable of emotions on the normal spectrum; the piles of bones he stood atop and the fresh meat that stocked his fridge was proof enough of that. But something akin to muted pity darkened his appetite. Dark maroon eyes flashed in the dusky light betraying his worst intentions.

“I will do everything in my power to help.” It was not a promise, but it held the hopes of one; something that was far more dangerous than one.

* * *

 

It was only four days after Wednesday that it came to Father Lecter as a great shock that William joined them for sermon. Will’s dark chocolate curls and darkly ringed eyes making the man stand out even from the back pews. Hannibal set into autopilot, his memorized sermon easily spilling forth in the background so his thoughts could spin around the stained lost lamb that was Will Graham.

For someone who was so repelled by others to be physically ill by them to be brought into church on their busiest day, something must have gone terribly wrong. Thorns of curiosity pricked ideas into his thoughts that ran rampant with assumptions about what had taken place. So much branched off that Hannibal had to force himself to let it go and focus back on his sermon to avoid misspeaking. It wouldn’t do to get distracted.

* * *

 

The lecture was wrapped up with an appropriately added piece about forgiveness and redemption solely for his special guest. No sooner had the thick bible been snapped shut and mass ended that William gingerly made his way to the podium.

With Father Lecter’s silvery brown hair neatly slotted into place and cold gaze that pieced through Will’s very being, he was having severe reservations about meeting with the man face to face. Stumbling back he almost was sick all over the floor but managed to hold onto himself for the few precious moments to excuse himself, all but running past the stained glass windows casting light down upon him.

It would seem Hannibal would have to wait to get his questions sated.

* * *

 

Wednesday came and went and with it so did Will. Entering the confessional for the briefest of minutes to confess his usual sins and no more.

However the next week Thursday held another surprise visit and with it promise.

William snaked his way into the confined box. His breathing quickened and labored with fear. The smell of it like a beacon beckoning Hannibal closer.

“What has you so riled?” The schedule was broken and with it so was their routine.

Hands furiously scrubbed into messy locks, releasing a heavy cloud of cheap aftershave and woods after a thunderstorm that had Hannibal’s head spinning in a delightful manner. He could tell something was amiss in the smell. Swirls of frustration and oddly enough sweet curls of something carefully hidden was radiating off Will who seemed to be exuding pure anxiety.

Will leaned close to the thin barrier, nose brushing the delicately carved wood before leaning the crest of his skull against it. Tips of black hair poked through the small gaps, teasing Hannibal with its assurance of softness. A weighty sigh dropped off Will’s shoulders. “Forgive me father, for I have sinned.”

Father Lecter moved in closer, the almost inaudible noise of his heavy black cassock the only indication given as fingertips brushed through the inky tresses offered to him. “Tell me your sins so you can receive forgiveness.”

Hannibal would have missed the concealed shudder if he wasn’t so intently focused on the young man breaking apart at his words. He was met by a few more moments of silence before the Father leaned in even closer, bowed lips brushing the stained wood as he thickly whispered to where Will’s ear should have been. “ ** _Tell me._** ”

The undersized counter creaked on Will’s side, indicating how he grabbed onto it for support, bringing a smile to his face.  Will hunched into himself as much as the tiny space would allow, his words sounding far away. “I have been having misguided thoughts.”

The smile morphed larger, showing the tips of pointed teeth. It was obvious something was amiss. The usual waltz of self-loathing and guilt from Will’s violent thoughts and sleepwalking edging on hallucinations were churned, changed in a way that was making Hannibal inquisitive. He had a guess as to what it was, but wanted Will to admit it all on his own. To hear those words drip from his mouth would make Father Lecter’s body crave like no dish he had ever eaten before. “Tell me your thoughts so you can be forgiven.”

If it wasn’t for Hannibal’s sensitive hearing he would have never heard the whispered words that made his robe crease, his pants growing way too tight too quickly. He savored each syllable as if it was a note from a dying lover.

“Misguided thoughts of you and murder.” The way it was whispered carried hints of arousal not accusations. Will didn’t know about the bodies reaching into the hundreds carefully hidden and artfully staged over decades over the continent. His words were spoken as if Will himself was the one drowning in blood and finding himself yearning for another man’s flesh. His misguided angel was finally falling after nearly a year of pulling out feathers with every visit.

Pads rough from a lifetime of cooking rubbed over the wooden lace separating them. “I am glad to know I am not the only one.” Hannibal’s accent thicker than normal as he equally confessed. Fingers found the obscured seam and slid the partitioning window open, revealing a startled Will. Stormy eyes colored dark with insomnia and forgotten stubble painted Will better than any of the angels decorating the glorious church.

Lethe arms containing veiled power pulled the other man bodily into the tiny room and smashed him into the wall with just enough force to knock the wind from him without shaking the whole box.

Hannibal studied the expression Will was throwing off, drinking in the way he was trying hard to pull apart the mask Father Lecter had set firmly in place, floundering when he came up with nothing.

Swirling blue connected with dark maroon for the briefest of moments and Will must have read the lust buried in them as plain as day because Hannibal had to act quickly to cut off the lusty moan that threatened to expose them. His hand pressed the noise from Will’s mouth with just the barest twitch of a smirk.

 “Don’t make God look away; we need him to judge our sins….” Will’s tongue against his palm pinched together his words, interrupting his carefully stitched words. He leaned in close to Will’s ear to finish his sentence. “So we can be forgiven.” He thickly whispered, his tongue dragging across the warm shell in punctuation, earning him another strangled noise muffled by his own hand.

Father Lecter carefully removed his hand and was surprised when Will’s lips crashed with his own, the soft texture tasting of cheap coffee. Rough hands found purchase in a starved waist and forcefully pressed it into his own and was pleased to find Will just as painfully aroused as he was. A curious tongue slid into Hannibal’s mouth, running across sharp teeth and he swallowed a gasp as the Father kissed back, all skilled tongue, lips, and sucking heat.

Will had to hang on to keep from being swept away by the sweltering kiss, brows crinkling in confusion as Hannibal slowly slid the lattice window closed mere moments before the wooden door opened on the other side. The sounds of movement concealing the swish of robes as Hannibal sunk to his knees. His perplexed look launched into a gasp as the button holding Will’s jeans was thumbed open. The sound was thickly swallowed just in time for the box to drift into silence.

“Father?” The voice that drifted over to them was clearly male. Hannibal recognized the voice immediately and looked up at Will, expression urging the young man to do something he wasn’t prepared for and fought against, shaking his head in a silent plea to not do what the Father was suggesting.

“Father? Are you there?” The voice drifted through again with Hannibal giving no indication that he was going to reply anytime soon, leaving Will no option other than to fill in the role of priest.

“Y-Yes my son.” His voice cracking around the edges as Hannibal eased the zipper down, exposing boxers in a similar state of plaid as his shirt. Will steadied himself with a breath, leaning heavily against the thick wood wall even as his toes curled in anticipation. He eased the folds of the jeans down, freeing Will’s trapped erection and an inaudible sigh from him while a response flowed through.

 “How long has it been, s-since your last confession?” William knew the lecture well, having been on the other end more times than he could count. But the huff of moist breath against the tip of his cock was giving him problems. Hannibal was a devil for forcing this on him.

 “It has been two weeks since my last confession.”

 “Tell me your sins so you can seek God’s f-forgiveness.” He could do this. Hannibal’s tongue swirled along the ridge and Will’s knees went weak, his confidence shaken as he fought to keep his breathing steady. Knuckles were crammed between his teeth, biting hard to keep a moan from escaping as the man on the other side of the flimsy wood revealed his secrets.

As disembodied sins about infidelity and affairs were laid out before him, Hannibal was seducing him with his tongue. Every word punctuated with a sinful lick of his tongue. Heated laps and harsh sucks in the gaps between sentences has Will’s hands buried in the Father’s hair, messing up the perfectly straight hair as he struggled to swallow lusty moans.

Will buries his teeth into lip and tongue both to hold his noises in check as Hannibal swallows him down to the hilt engulfing him in tight wet heat that shoves him over the edge, a strangled grunt music to the Father’s ears. Tongue working to gather the bitter liquid from spilling out so he could savor it longer before drinking it down.

Breathless Will turned to the wooden screen, realizing the other had long since finished speaking. “I-I’ll pray for you…my son.”

“Thank you father.”

The sound of the door clicking open and shut had Will leaning boneless against the wall and Hannibal alike. A hand burdening the father with his weight on his shoulder. Strong arms firmly on his waist kept Will from sinking to the floor

An accent laden with lust brought Will from his haze.

“ I will carry your sins to relieve you of your burden. God will forgive you.”

Will curled over into him, arms circling Hannibal’s neck. “But what about you?”

“God has long since forsaken me. I have long since given up on being forgiven for my sins.”

Will held on even tighter, winking till he was seated in the other’s lap. “I don’t want to be forgiven. I want _you_.” He pressed a tender kiss to Hannibal’s lips, tasting himself as a gentle reminder of what had taken place, spikes of pleasure racing through his spine at the memories.


End file.
